


Four Times the Leverage Team Groveled to Hardison

by Soquilii9



Category: Leverage
Genre: Amends, Apologies, Gen, Groveling, Guilt, Remorse, contrition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 14:35:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17367701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soquilii9/pseuds/Soquilii9
Summary: Sequel to "Five Times the Team Didn’t Realize Hardison Wasn’t Kidding About Having Asthma, and One Time They Did"Someone once said 'Love means never having to say you're sorry.'There are times, however, if you hurt someone bad enough, you damn sure better apologize.Dedicated to charminghex99





	Four Times the Leverage Team Groveled to Hardison

**Author's Note:**

  * For [charminghex99](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charminghex99/gifts).



 

 

 

**Nate**

Nana set her cup of herbal tea in its saucer.  She used the arms of her sturdy chair to rise, for her knees just didn’t seem to want to cooperate these days.  She got to her feet with a grunt and lumbered toward the door.

‘I’s comin’!  I’s comin’! Damn it to hell, stop ringin’ that do’bell!  You gonna wake Alec!’ she hissed.

She pulled the lace curtain back and peered through the door’s small, inset window.  The face she saw on the other side was one she recognized but one she didn’t particularly want to see.

Nate Ford stared back at the face of one of the very few family members his team had.  Eliot had no one, only the brothers-in-arms with whom he had served in the military; there was Aimee, if you could count an ex-fiance'...   Sophie had -(who knew?)...   Parker of course, had Archie Leach...   he, himself had an ex-wife...   none of his team, he reflected briefly, really had any blood relations, for Nana was Hardison’s foster mother. How odd.  Nate shrugged. Long seconds had passed with the two of them staring at each other, enough time for him to ponder all of this, before Nana opened the door. Just a crack.  Uninviting.

‘Alec’s asleep!’ she hissed at him.

‘How’s, uh, how’s he doing?  Y’know, we’ve uh, kind of been worried about him.  Haven’t seen him since he got out of the hospital…’

‘O'course not.  He come home where he know he be _safe_!  Don’t get no teasin’ or ridicule here!  He just want to be let alone for a spell!’

Nate nodded, staring at his shoes.  ‘Can you, uh, at least give him a message?’

‘I think about it, Mist’ Fo’d.  From what he done tole me I suspect Alec ain’t gonna wanna talk to _any_ of ya’ll any time soon.  Least of all you. _Choke to death_ , indeed!’  
    
    
     
    _FLASHBACK_
    Nate seconded the motion. ‘Hardison - I don’t care if you choke to death; we’ll revive you. For now, forget that nonsense and you and Parker get out of there.  That's an order!
    Sophie looked at Nate in surprise. Never had he sounded so much like a drill sergeant.                  
    

 

‘What message you wanna leave for my Alec?’ Nana demanded to know.

‘Just that...tell him that...I...that we, uh...we’re sorry.  All of us. The team, you know...we all want him to know how sorry we are for…’

‘I’ll think about tellin’ him what you said, Mist’ F’od.’  Nana slammed the door in Nate’s face.

 

 

 

 

**Parker**

Hardison had spent several weeks at his Nana’s house recuperating.  The stress-free environment and complete rest had done him a world of good; he had been thoroughly coddled and fussed over and had nothing to do but play video games and eat his Nana’s delicious cooking.  He had gained ten pounds which, on his tall, spare frame, looked good. As for Nana, she delighted in having her favorite child once again under her wing.  Hardison basked in the love and complete acceptance, for Nana seemed to have the ability to treat him with respect, like the man he was, while still making him feel safe and secure as she had done when he was a child.

Once he was fully recovered, however, he knew it was time to return to work.

He did so with a degree of anxiety.

He didn’t know Nate had been to see him; Nana had not delivered the message.

As far as he knew, the teasing and the harassment was going to continue.

He didn’t look forward to it.

His first day back after several weeks was a pleasant surprise after his initial uneasiness.  No one was there. He used his key to the rooms above the brewpub and entered his office. There were no sticky notes, no texts on his phone, no emails.   _The team must have taken a break_ , he thought, or _else just no jobs've come up..._

He poured himself a coffee and sat down at his desk.  He’d work on the code he’d left off writing weeks before, which was going make it easier to withdraw funds from offshore accounts without needing an account number.  Maybe that would impress somebody and they'd lay off.  Maybe now that he'd actually been in the hospital, in the ICU no less, they'd take him seriously and quit teasing.  Well, a man could dream, anyway.

He worked for a couple of hours and took a break, stretching his arms wide and whipping his head back and forth to ease the kinked muscles in his neck.

‘Is your neck stiff?’

Hardison swiveled in his chair.  Parker was standing at the door as if she was hesitant to come in.  

‘No,’ he said.  ‘No, it’s fine. Hello, Parker.’

He studied her pixie face and knew what she was thinking.   _Why would he say just ‘hello, Parker?’  Is he mad at me? I wish Sophie were here to tell me what to say…_

Parker kept her eyes on the ceiling, on the floor, on the wall; everywhere but Hardison’s face.  ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Fine.  I’m fine.  Ready to go back to work.’

‘You were...you were pretty sick.’

‘You could say that.’

‘The doctor said you nearly died.’

‘But...I didn’t.’

‘But you nearly did.’  There were tears in Parker’s trembling voice.

He got up from his chair and came toward her.  She dared to meet his eyes and despite her best efforts a tear rolled down her cheek.  He gently brushed it away.

‘I...did...ent,’ he stated emphatically.

‘Were you mad at me?  I mean, I teased you about being allergic.  Do you hate me now?’

‘Why should I hate you?’

Parker rolled her eyes at him the way she did when she thought he was being dense.  ‘Because I made fun of you. I didn’t take you seriously. And you...you nearly…’

Hardison gathered Parker into his arms and held her close.

‘It’s ok.  All is forgiven.’

Parker’s voice was muffled against his shirt.  ‘I’m sorry, Alec.’

He stroked her hair.

‘It’s ok.’

 

 

 

 

**Sophie and Nate**

Nate sat at the bar, sipping a whiskey, staring at the mirror on the back wall.  Sophie sat watching him brood, for once at a loss what to say.

‘Do you think she gave him the message?’ she asked, referring to what he had told her about meeting Nana and not being invited in.

‘Somehow I don’t think so.  He’s been back for a few days now and we’ve exchanged exactly zero words.  In fact, I haven’t even seen him.’

‘How do you know he’s back, then?’

‘Parker told me.’

‘Oh.’

‘He’s mad at all of us.’

‘I don’t doubt it.  Every one of us has given him grief, me included.’

‘So what do we do?’

‘Look, Nate, I know this isn’t in your vocabulary, but have you ever considered apologizing?’

He looked at her.

‘Seriously?’

’Seriously.’

‘But I did.’

‘Did what?’

‘Apologized.’

‘To _whom_?’

‘I told Nana to tell him.’

‘Nana, who apparently didn’t give him the message.’

‘Ah, hell.’

‘Do you know what I think you should do?’

Nate knocked back what was left of his drink before he answered.

‘What?’

‘Accompany me to Hardison’s office where we will each offer our most sincere and heartfelt apologies.’

‘You mean grovel.’

‘Tomato, tomahto.  Are you coming or not?’

Nate sighed and nodded.  ‘Let’s go steal Hardison’s forgiveness.’

‘If you’re lucky, he’ll give it to you.’

 

 

 

 

**Eliot**

It was Sunday morning.  Sounds of clanking, banging, grunting and an occasional oath echoed through the empty brewpub.  Hardison, mystified, traced their source to the kitchen. He peered over one of the counters. A pair of ragged-hemmed, blue-jeaned legs with booted feet stuck out from beneath one of the larger floor cabinets.  Some tools lay scattered about and one slightly bloodied rag lay crumpled a few feet away.

Thinking the legs belonged to a plumber or some other contractor, Hardison said, ‘Sir?  ‘Scuse me, sir, I’m the owner here and I didn’t authorize any work. What are you doing?’

The legs bent and the feet pulled the torso of one Eliot Spencer out from beneath the cabinet.  He was sweaty, dirty and lightly powdered with sawdust.  Greasy, stringy hair was held back by a blue bandana.  It was as unkempt as Hardison had ever seen it.

‘Eliot,’ Hardison said in surprise.

‘Yeah,’ said the Hitter, wiping his face with a hand still holding a wrench.

‘What... what’cha doin’ man?’

Eliot straightened up, curiously not looking Hardison in the eye, which certainly wasn't like him.  ‘Remember the Value!More Job?’

‘Yeah.’

‘That was after we got to Portland and you wanted to go all green and everything?  Remember?’

Hardison chuckled.  ‘Yeah, I said _we gotta do like the hippies_ , or somethin' like that.’

‘And I put in some equipment you asked for and then I gave you some grief about composting.’

‘Well, yeah, and we somehow never quite got to that, did we?’ Hardison smiled.

‘Well... now you can add it to your tankless water heater and low flow faucet I put in back then.’

‘You mean…?’

‘I figured out a way for you to compost right here in the kitchen and it won’t stink.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Seriously.’

‘How did you manage that?’

‘Well, after I went ahead and installed the cardboard crusher and recycling bins you wanted and didn't get, either, I put in what you call a bioreactor.  Sounds complicated but all it is, is a twenty-gallon metal garbage can and a worm bin. It’ll make finished compost in a couple o'months; keep a lot o'the trash out o'the landfills.  Use it for fertilizer; hell, I can even take some home for my garden. Not a bad deal. I ventilated it out through the roof. Bought you some worms, too. Parker might like the castings for her plants, or that dragonfly-eater thing you got her.’

Hardison looked at Eliot knowingly.  'A Venus Fly-Trap.  And _you_ got her that, my man.’

‘Whatever, just don’t put meat or dairy into it.  You want stink, that’ll make stink.’

‘Eliot...what are you trying to tell me?’

Eliot dropped all pretenses and finally allowed his eyes to meet Hardison’s.

‘Tryin’ to tell you I’m sorry, man.  I damn near killed you and as irritating as you can be, that’s the last thing I wa-’  Eliot’s voice failed; he couldn’t go on.

Hardison clapped him on the back.

‘Hey, can you show me how this thing works?  Looks awesome.’

‘Yeah, see, it’s easy.  You got your sealed trapdoor here, and your handle is down here.  You gotta turn it to keep it aerated. There’s a charcoal filter here you gotta change out every so often - I kinda invented that myself - and the air just goes up the pipe to the roof.....’

 

 

THE END


End file.
